


I Can't Just Let That Go

by devoosha



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 09:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14668515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devoosha/pseuds/devoosha
Summary: An alternate POV of my one shot, "But She Knows How I Feel About Him". Arnold is trying to let Helga know how he feels about her, but she is being her normal stubborn self.See Helga's POV in my other work.





	I Can't Just Let That Go

*THUNK*

“Ow!”

“That was probably not the smartest thing you could have just done to yourself,” Gerald said wryly as he leaned against the locker next to his best friend, who had just banged his forehead against the closed metal door.

Arnold Shortman groaned, keeping his head pressed against his locker.  “Why is this so difficult?”

Gerald shrugged one shoulder.  “I don’t know, man.  You’re the one making this complicated.  Just go up to the girl and ask her out.”

Arnold straightened, his hand moving to the combination lock.  He shot a glance at Gerald before looking down to find the correct numbers.  “It is NOT that simple.  At least not with her.”

“Then why go for her?”  Gerald asked.

Arnold sighed.  “Because,” he said patiently.  “I love her.  I’ve loved her for a long time.  I can’t just let that go.”

Gerald just shook his head.  “Dude, this is Helga we’re talking about.  She has the biggest crush on you.  She’s not going to say ‘no’.”

“I don’t know that Gerald,” Arnold replied, fishing out his math book.  “She HAD a crush on me when we were kids.  That was a long time ago.  I thought…” he trailed off, slamming his locker door.  “I thought she still liked me, but she never wrote to me.  She hasn’t even really talked to me since I’ve been back.”

“We all know Helga is crazy.  Who knows what goes on in her head?  But I’m telling you, man, that girl has not dated anyone while you’ve been gone.  Nada.  And she’s been asked plenty from what I hear.  Something is stopping her from going out with anyone and I think that something is YOU,” Gerald said as they headed down the hall toward their class.

“Then why is she avoiding me?  Every time I look at her, she turns away.  Kind of makes it hard to strike up a conversation that could lead up to asking her out.”

They had a couple minutes before the bell would ring.  It was the first class of the day, a day that was already starting out rough for Arnold.  Having spotted Helga in the hall he tried to go and talk to her, but she disappeared before he could.  It wasn’t his first attempt that week to speak to her.

He had been away from Hillwood for five years after finding his parents in San Lorenzo.  He had opted to stay with them there, though it was a difficult decision to make.  It was hard to uproot his life and leave everything he loved and was familiar with.  The decision was complicated more when he realized he had fallen in love with the fiery blond antagonist of his childhood.  A girl who only a year before had confessed her love for him. 

That had been a surprise, and it had taken him a long time to come to terms with it.  He had thought Helga hated him.  Strike that.  They had a complicated relationship for their whole lives.  While she claimed to hate him, he knew she never really did.  Yet he had no idea that she actually loved him.

Arnold had finally worked up the courage in the jungles of San Lorenzo.  He had liked her-liked her long before the class field trip down there, but had no idea how to let her know that.  It was in the jungle, though, that he realized it was more than like-liking.  He loved her, and that gave him the courage to kiss her when they were alone one night, separated from their class.  She had saved his life, got a fire going, took care of him, bandaged his cut arm with her hair ribbon, and shrugged all of it off when he tried to thank her.

He knew then that, even though they had agreed that what she had confessed to him that morning on the FTi rooftop was a ‘heat of the moment’ thing, it was a lie.  Helga indeed loved him.  At least she had then.  Sitting by that fire, he hoped she still did.  He talked to her about a lot of personal things, and though she said very little, she listened, her blue eyes wide. 

Arnold had then stopped talking, giving up on getting her to open up to him.  He couldn’t just sit there, though, and not let her know how he felt.  Gerald always said he was a bold kid, so he should be, right?  He looked at the girl, sitting next to him with her knees up and her arms wrapped around them.  She was staring at the little fire and he couldn’t read what she was thinking.  He didn’t care.  He had to take the chance. 

“Thank you again, Helga.  For everything…”

Helga turned her head towards him, starting to say “You don’t have to thank me…” but she stopped, her expression a little uncertain.

Arnold swallowed hard, staring into her eyes.  Then he inched closer to her.  “Yes I do,” he said.  His heart was beating wildly.  He’d never done this before, though she had kissed him three times in their life.  He leaned closer to her and closed his eyes just before his lips touched hers.

He knew it probably wasn’t a great kiss.  It was nothing like she had given him the previous year.  He wasn’t sure exactly what to do and besides, Helga herself was pretty frightening.  As tough as she was, he knew that if he did something she didn’t like, she could beat the snot out of him.  Arnold was thrilled when she didn’t draw away, and even more thrilled when he felt her kiss him back. 

Then they were interrupted.  Gerald’s shouts about seeing a fire stopped their kiss and they jumped apart before Gerald and Phoebe, Helga’s best friend, burst from the trees near the river.  Arnold was partially relieved they had been found, but partially irritated.  He had been enjoying that kiss.

It was momentarily pushed aside when his parents were found.  Things moved so fast after that evening that he had no time to think.  He’d had no chance to talk to Helga about what happened – or to kiss her again.  Arnold didn’t even have a chance for a proper goodbye to her when the class went back home and he stayed in San Lorenzo with his parents.

He was hopeful at first, though he missed her and his other friends terribly.  She never wrote him back, however.  Arnold sent letters every other week for a while, then every month, then randomly.  It broke his heart that she never replied and he couldn’t figure out why she didn’t.  Was it his imagination that he felt her kiss him back?  It couldn’t have been.  He wasn’t that dense.  He could see in her eyes how much she still liked him.  Loved him, even. 

When his parents told him it was time to move back to Hillwood he was thrilled.  Miles, his father, was worried over Arnold’s grandparents.  While they were both healthy, they were getting too old to run the boarding house anymore, so his parents had decided to move back and take care of things.  Arnold was excited to be among his friends again, and to see Helga – though he was nervous about that as well, unsure of whether or not she even remembered him.

The Shortman family arrived home a couple of days before the start of the school year, so Arnold barely saw anyone, except for Gerald, before school began.  The first day was a blur as old elementary school friends flocked to him to hug him, talk to him, see him.  They all seemed excited to see him back in Hillwood.  Everyone.

Except Helga.

Arnold had seen her in the hallway, walking with Phoebe and laughing about something.  His mouth went dry.  He had thought she was pretty as a child (when she wasn’t scowling at everyone), but had grown into a lovely young woman – with longer blond hair tied back in a ponytail and that pink ribbon tied to it so that the lengths of the ribbon mixed with her hair as it swung back and forth as she moved.  Helga and Phoebe were walking toward Arnold as the group gathered around him.  She looked up and caught his eye and looked shocked, but only for a moment.  Before he knew it she was gone.

He saw her often in the hallways – she seemed to have a similar class schedule to his in that he was constantly passing her.  She rarely made eye contact though.  Arnold had managed a few brief exchanges with her.  The first was the second day of school in the cafeteria line.  She welcomed him back, said that it was nice that he was back home, then scurried off to sit with Phoebe.   Other contact was even briefer than that.

All this led up to this day, the day before his 16th birthday.  Helga’s indifference had a huge effect on him.  The ‘bold’ kid of his childhood days disappeared and he found it difficult to accomplish the one thing he wanted.  To ask her out.  To ask her to be his girlfriend.  Gerald had assured him many times that Helga did not have a boyfriend; in fact, did not date anyone.  Arnold simply couldn’t do it.  He attempted numerous times that week to approach her, but each time he chickened out.

These thoughts were interrupted by Gerald, who made Arnold stop just outside their math class.  “Look, if you can’t talk to Helga do the next best thing.  Phoebe is her best friend.  If anyone would know how Helga feels about you, it would be her.  Phoebe is much easier to approach than Helga is.  And Pheebs is the exact person to help you, if you want anyone’s help.”

Arnold nodded slowly as he thought that over.  It did sound like a good idea.  “Alright.  I’ll talk to Phoebe.  Thanks Gerald!” he said, feeling a little more positive about the whole thing.

  

* * *

 

 

After thinking about it during class, Arnold decided that he would try to find Phoebe during lunch, but knew he would have to move fast.  Phoebe and Helga ate together in the cafeteria almost every day.  Having planned on this, the day suddenly began to drag and he moved through his morning classes in a sort of daze, staring at the clock and mentally urging the minute hand to move faster.

When the bell sounded for the lunch period, Arnold bolted out of his class and ran up the stairs.  He was practically the first person there.  He stood by the door watching the other students come in, his eyes searching for both Phoebe and Helga, hoping that Phoebe would come in first and come in alone. 

Arnold got his wish as he spotted the short, black-haired girl come in, carrying her lunch bag and some of her books.  He scanned the cafeteria again for Helga before following Phoebe over to one of the tables.  She had already seated herself when he caught up to her and she looked up with a smile at him when he said her name.

“Oh hello Arnold!” she said in her high-pitched voice.

“Hi,” he said, feeling awkward.

She kept her smile.  “Is there something that I can help you with?”

He nodded sharply.  “Actually there is.”

“Alright.  Would you like to join me?” she asked, waving a hand at the seat next to her.

“Yeah, right,” he said, still feeling awkward.  It wasn’t that he was afraid of talking to Phoebe about Helga, he just really didn’t know how to start.

Phoebe waited for a few moments after he had sat down before speaking.  “So, do you need to talk to me about something?” she prompted.

The noise level in the cafeteria was usually loud, and Phoebe’s voice was high-pitched but also soft.  He didn’t want to shout his questions at her, so he leaned closer.  “I have a question to ask you, and something to tell you.  It’s just,” he paused.  “not easy to say.”

She nodded, “Take your time.”

Arnold smiled, “I want to ask you about Helga.”

He couldn’t help but notice the effect this question had on Phoebe.  The girl positively glowed – her facial expression lit up, though he could see she tried to suppress it.  “What do you want to know?”

“This is really sort of awkward,” he admitted to Phoebe.  “I don’t know if she told you about what happened at FTi, and then later in the jungle.”

Phoebe’s smile grew.  “Her confession and the kisses, I presume you mean?” she asked.  “Yes Arnold, she told me.”

He returned her smile, a little relieved.  If Helga had told her best friend about them, he felt sure that they meant something special to her.  “Phoebe,” he started, then paused.  It was not an easy thing to say.  He leaned even closer and said in a low voice near her ear.  “Pheebs, I still love her,” he finally said.  “I’ve never stopped.”

Though it didn’t seem possible, Phoebe seemed to glow even more and she giggled.  She looked so happy, which in turn made him happy.  It HAD to be a good sign that Helga’s best friend looked so excited at his admission.  He looked down, feeling a little shy suddenly and continued as he looked up again when she touched his arm.  “I made a mistake, I never told her that.  I want to tell her.  I just don’t know how she feels.”

“Oh Arnold,” Phoebe squeaked.  “Please just tell her.  I would never betray her confidences in me, but I will say it is a good idea for you to tell her.  I will NOT say how I think she will react, or even how I KNOW she will react, but I can, in good faith, encourage you.”

He laughed, feeling much more confident now.  “Alright, I’ll take your advice.”  Then he frowned slightly.  “There is one problem.”

“Oh?”

He nodded.  “She’s been avoiding me, I think.  I don’t know why.  I’ve tried a couple of times to talk to her, but she just slips away.”

“Would you like me to speak to her?”

Arnold thought about that for a moment, then shook his head.  “I’d like to tell her how I feel.”

Phoebe nodded.  “I agree that is the best way.”  She thought for a moment.  “Why not leave a note in her locker?  You do not have to say that you love her in the note, but say enough to let her know you want to talk to her?”

“Would that work?”

“If you leave it before she leaves school today, it should.  You can either wait by her locker for her to read it, or wait outside.  Either way, you should be able to get her to let you say what you need to say.”

“Ok.  I’ll do it,” he declared, grinning at Phoebe.  “Where’s her locker?”

“Near mine, in the wing where most of the English and Lit classes are held.  Number 689.  Helga’s last class is at the opposite end of the school, so it does take her quite a few minutes to get to it at the end of the day, so you have some time to leave the note.”

  

* * *

 

 

If time dragged before lunch hour, then it crawled at a snail’s pace now.  Arnold barely paid attention in his second half classes.  He spent his time in class composing the note for Helga.  It took eight attempts to get it right.  At the end of his second to last class of the day he had finished and had torn to shreds the first seven attempts for the trash.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest. 

During his last period, he pulled the note out and read it once more:

_My dearest Helga,_

_I don’t really know how to approach you.  You are such an enigma and have haunted my dreams for so long that I’m actually frightened of you.  I see you in the halls every day, passing by like the wind, not acknowledging my existence.  Or our past.  Not a day goes by where I don’t think about those kisses, first as my Juliet, second on the beach, third at FTi and fourth in San Lorenzo.  Each one sweeter to me than the last._

_I don’t know what changed.  I thought you liked me.  You told me once you loved me.  I know, Helga, that wasn’t heat of the moment.  Neither was San Lorenzo.  I didn’t kiss you out of gratitude.  I kissed you because I wanted to; had wanted to kiss you again ever since that morning at FTi.  I hoped you understood that I needed to stay with my parents, but you never wrote to me.  I assumed you had forgotten me – that I was mistaken, and that you didn’t like me.  When I returned, it seemed that I was right.  You ignored me._

_I can’t ignore you, though, Helga.  I can’t ignore how I feel about you and the fact that I never stopped thinking about you.  I’ve tried to work up the courage to talk to you, but I keep chickening out, especially since it seems you don’t want to talk to me.  I need to tell you how I feel, though.  If you don’t feel the same, I will deal with it.  If you do, if you still feel the way you told me you did that morning so long ago, it would make my happiness complete._

_Love,  
Arnold_

It was everything he wanted to say, minus the ‘I love you’ part.  He wanted to actually say that.  He planned on sticking it in her locker and then finding someplace to watch as she found it.  Arnold had a daydream of Helga opening her locker, picking up the note from the bottom of the locker and unfolding it.  It would take her a couple of minutes to read, but the wait would be worth it as he pictured her face lighting up and turning to him.  He would approach her from behind as she read in order to be close by when she was done.  They would then profess their love for each other and seal it with a perfect kiss. 

Arnold folded the note and propped his chin in his hand, elbow on his desk.  He sighed dreamily, enjoying his little fantasy until the teacher called on him to answer a question that Arnold hadn’t even heard.  He blushed furiously at the laughs of his classmates as the teacher had to repeat the question, prefacing it with instructions to stop daydreaming about girls in class.

 

* * *

 

 

The last bell of the day rang and Arnold ran from his class.  He had to get to Helga’s locker before she did.  Phoebe had said her last class was at the other end of the school, and his was close to the English wing, so he made it there in plenty of time.  _‘Now...her locker…the number,’_ he thought.  _‘689.  Crap.  Was it 698?_ ’  He couldn’t remember what Phoebe said.  He stood there, note in hand, staring blankly at the lockers.  He walked closer to the 698 locker and hesitated.  _‘What if this isn’t hers?  I can’t let anyone else see this.’_   He frowned in frustration.  He had been so concentrated on writing the note he had totally forgotten the number. 

Arnold ignored the kids passing behind him.  A few gave him an odd look as they went into their own locker near where he was standing looking frustrated.  Of course the owner of either 689 or 698 didn’t stop by so he could know.  He was just about to ask another student if she knew which locker was Helga’s when he saw that someone did just open locker 689.  He could tell right away it was Helga, though he couldn’t see her face.  That tell-tale pink ribbon was all he needed to see.

_‘I could just hand her the note,’_ he reasoned to himself.  _‘That way I know she got it.  Or since she’s here, I could just ask to talk to her.’_  The fantasy he pictured earlier in class came to life again, slightly altered.  He smiled and approached her, his left hand that held the note automatically going behind his back.

“Oh, hey Helga,” he said, trying his best to look calm, cool and collected and knowing his was failing miserably.

Helga’s eyes peeked around the door.  They were red.  It looked like she’d been crying and that completely threw him off what he’d been rehearsing to say.  His glance into her eyes was brief, though, as she muttered “Hey Arnold,” back to him before looking back at her things.

Arnold wasn’t sure what to say.  It didn’t look like she wanted to see him, much less talk to him.  He said the first thing that came into his head.  “We haven’t really gotten a chance to catch up.”

She had backed a little away from her locker to manage her backpack.  “No we haven’t,” she said as she zipped it up. 

Her voice sounded strained; she was frowning and looked upset.  He wondered what he had said.  He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, a nervous habit he’d always had.  “I’m sorry about that.”

“No biggie,” she said flippantly as she slammed her locker and turned away.  “Catch you later,” she added as she took a few steps away.

Arnold was stunned.  She was treating him almost like she had in elementary school.  “Helga wait!” he cried.

“I have to go!” she growled, barely turning her head to him, and stalked off down the hall.  He stood there with his mouth hanging open as he watched her turn the corner and disappear.  The hall was mostly empty of students and he looked around confusedly, finally turning so that he could lean back against the row of lockers.  He looked at the folded-up note he had written with so much hope and felt his heart break.

“Arnold?”

He looked to the side and saw Phoebe standing there staring at him, her eyes wide behind her glasses.  She looked concerned and worried.  “Phoebe,” he said half-heartedly in greeting.

“Arnold, what happened?  You didn’t give Helga your note?”

Arnold slowly shook his head, then tilted it back against the locker behind him.  “No, she ran off.”

“I do not understand.”

He explained what had happened to her and Phoebe looked really confused.  “Arnold, I…” and she broke off as Gerald joined them.

“Dude!” Gerald exclaimed.  “I have your books.  You ran out of class without them.  Good thing Rhonda noticed and grabbed them for you.  She gave them to me…” he trailed off as he noticed Arnold’s face and Phoebe’s worried expression.  “What’s going on?”

Closing his eyes with a sigh, Arnold repeated what he had told Phoebe after first explaining his plan with the note to Gerald.  “I just don’t understand why she was so mean to me.  That and the never writing to me in San Lorenzo.  I just don’t know.  I thought she cared about me.  I guess I was wrong.”

Phoebe had been chewing her lower lip as she listened.  “No!” she cried when Arnold paused.

The boys both looked at her startled.

“Arnold please do not give up!  I know I should not tell you this, but Helga does care about you.  So much!  Her feelings for you have never changed.  Trust me!”

“She does?  Then why…?” Arnold said, leaving his question hanging.

“I do not know.  Let me talk to her.  I will figure this out tonight.  I promise.  You said it looked like she had been crying.  I have not seen her all day – something must be wrong.  I will call you tomorrow after I talk to her.  Just please do not lose hope!”

  

* * *

 

 

Arnold did feel much better after Phoebe’s assurances about Helga’s feelings.  He walked home with Gerald, turning down his friends’ suggestion they go play basketball or find something else to do.  He just wanted to be alone tonight with his thoughts. 

“Good luck tomorrow, man.  I hope it works out.”

Arnold smiled weakly.  “Thanks Gerald.  I do too.”

“It’d be a great birthday present if it did.”

“Yeah.  And the worst birthday ever if it doesn’t.”

“Come on man.  Don’t think like that.  Where’s the always-positive Arnold we all know and love?”

Arnold sighed, “Trying very hard to find the positive in all this.”

“You heard Phoebe, brother.  That beautiful girl wouldn’t lie to you.”

Arnold had to smile again.  “Next we work on your confidence.”

“Mine?” Gerald scoffed.  “For what?”

“So you can finally ask Phoebe out.”

Gerald mock-punched his friend in the arm.  “Don’t even joke about that!  I move at my own pace!”

Arnold snorted. 

They had reached Gerald’s house.  “Are you sure you don’t wanna hang out tonight?”

Arnold shook his head.  “No.  I just need to be alone.  See you tomorrow?”

“In the evening.  We can party for your birthday.  I’ve gotta help my Mom all day.”

Arnold grinned.  “Ok.  Come over around dinner.  Mom and Grandma are making something special.”

“I’ll be there.  And I hope Helga will be too.  I truly do, brother.”

“Thanks Gerald.  You’re a great friend!”

  

* * *

 

 

Arnold’s evening was spent trying to concentrate on homework, but he couldn’t.  He wanted to get it out of the way so he wouldn’t have to worry about it.  His mind kept thinking about what Phoebe was saying to Helga, and what she was finding out.  Why did Helga look so upset?  Why wouldn’t she talk to him?  Did that kiss mean nothing to her?

_‘She must have thought I just kissed her out of gratitude,’_ he thought _.  ‘She did save my life.  But a gratitude kiss would have come right after she had pulled me out of the river.  I kissed her hours after that.’_   He crossed his arms on his desk and put his head down on them _.  ‘I should have told her I loved her.  I should have written it to her.  Maybe that’s what is wrong.  She might not think that I care about her.  I never really said it.’_

Arnold woke up sometime in the middle of the night, still at his desk.  He had fallen asleep and must have been out for hours.  He sat up, rubbing at his neck to work out the kink that had formed.  “Ugh,” he grunted.  “I need to get some sleep.”  He checked his phone but there was no message or text from Phoebe.  “I hope she got to talk to Helga.”

  

* * *

 

 

After a restless night where he didn’t get much sleep, Arnold dragged himself out of bed and trudged down to the bathroom to shower.  He felt much better afterwards and he quickly dressed himself to go down for breakfast.  Still no message from Phoebe.

His family was waiting for him and they all fussed over him.  It was his sixteenth birthday after all, a milestone, and everyone was happy and wishing him a happy birthday.  Arnold tried to look excited, but in all honesty, he was anxious and his stomach was in knots.  He could tell his mother knew something was wrong, but he thought he played the part well enough for the rest of his family and the boarders.

Breakfast was nearly finished when his phone rang.  Arnold nearly dropped it as he fumbled it out of his pocket and looked, seeing it was Phoebe’s number.  “Sorry Mom!  I have to take this!” he gasped, jumping up from his chair and running from the room.

“Phoebe?!” he nearly yelled into the phone when he answered it in the living room.

“Arnold!”  Phoebe’s voice sounded upset and strained.  “Arnold, Helga will not answer me!”

“What?” he exclaimed.

“She will not answer her phone.  I called and texted her all night last night.  I left a dozen messages.  She would not answer and she hasn’t called me back!”

“You’re right, something must be wrong if she won’t even talk to you.”

“I know.  I am so worried!”

“What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can think of.  I will go to her house and make her talk to me.”  There was a hint of iron in Phoebe’s tone.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Phoebe took a moment to answer, then finally said, “No.  I do not think so.  I do not know what is wrong, so I do not want to make it worse.  It is better I find out first what is going on with her.”

“You’re right,” he agreed.  “Just, if it helps and you think it’s right to say, please tell her how I feel.”

“You want me to?” Phoebe asked, a little startled.

“Only if you think it’s a good idea.  If it will help.  I mean,” Arnold hesitated.  “I mean, if she really does like me.”

“I assure you, Arnold, she does.  I will get to the bottom of this.”

“Please let me know.”

“I will”

 

* * *

 

 

The wait the next hour was unbearable.  Arnold couldn’t return to his breakfast, though he did help his mother clean up and mechanically went through the process of doing dishes.  He could tell his mother was on the verge of asking him about it, but he hoped she wouldn’t.  He escaped the kitchen before she could.

Arnold ran up to his room and grabbed his hoodie and pulled it on.  Then he took the one thing he carried with him at all times – a very faded and worn out pink hair ribbon.  Helga had pulled it from her hair and had bandaged a cut on his arm with it that night he had kissed her.  The ribbon meant the world to him.  It connected him with her and was a constant reminder of how he felt kissing her.  He had thought many times about throwing it out over the years, especially as the months went by and no letter from her had shown up.  He loved her, though, and this was all he had of her.

After folding it up gently, he put it in his hoodie pocket, and also grabbed the note he had written and stuffed it into his jeans pocket.  He wasn’t sure why, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt. 

He ended up sitting on the stoop of the boarding house, watching the Saturday traffic – both pedestrian and vehicular – go by.  Arnold’s phone sat on his knee and he kept looking at it, wishing it to ring.  When it finally did, he nearly fell off the step.

“Phoebe!”

“Arnold,” Phoebe started right in.  “I went to her house and she was not at home.  I’m going to look for her.”

“Not home?” he asked blankly.

“No.  At least that is what her mother said.”

“Do you need help?”

“I do.”

“Ok.  I’ll go around looking for her too.”

They agreed on where to search and promised to keep in touch, then hung up their phones.  He stood up and jumped off the stoop, determined now more than ever.  “I love her.  She loves me.  I will not let her stubbornness ruin this,” he said aloud as he set off to look for her.

 

* * *

 

 

The next few hours were spent by both Arnold and Phoebe looking around Hillwood, asking if anyone had seen Helga, and not having any luck.  They kept in touch via text, but neither of them were successful.  He was in Mighty Pete, having just checked there for Helga when his text alert went off.  It was from Phoebe, of course, asking him to meet her a few blocks away.

When Arnold turned the corner, he spotted Phoebe in the middle of the block on the sidewalk, looking up and down the street, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Phoebe!” he yelled.

She turned towards his voice and once traffic cleared, he ran across the street, somewhat hopeful at her smile.  “You found her?” he panted, slightly out of breath, having run all the way here.  He touched her arm, feeling his heart sink as she shook her head, her expression turning back into worried.

“I have no idea where she is!” Phoebe cried.  “I have looked everywhere for her.”

“Well she has to be somewhere.  Are you sure she’s not home?”

“I’m positive she WAS home when I went there earlier,” Phoebe said, looking irritated.  “Her mother said she wasn’t, but I could tell she was not being honest.  I just have no idea why she is avoiding me.  She would not answer the phone last night.  She is not answering her cell phone or any of the texts I am sending.”

“It will be alright Phoebe,” he said, trying to reassure her.  “You know how she can be.”

“I know, but she has never done this to ME, Arnold.  You do not understand.  Helga has always relied on me.  She has never pushed me away.  That worries me more than anything.  And of all times now, when I have something so wonderful to tell her.”

Arnold smiled down at his friend, truly touched that Phoebe was so determined to help him win Helga.  “You don’t have to tell her Phoebe.  It’s ok.”

“Oh but I want to Arnold!”

He shook his head.  “I’ve thought it over.  I think it should come from me.  I appreciate you wanting to help, but it really should be me.”

Phoebe looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.

“Where haven’t we looked?” Arnold asked her.

Phoebe lifted her hands in a helpless sort of gesture.

He urged his brain to think.  Think like Helga.  If he were Helga…  “Where does Helga go when she needs to think?” he asked.

His heart jumped as Phoebe’s expression brightened.  “The docks!”

 

* * *

 

 

Phoebe was right.  They had rushed over to the docks and walked along the piers until they spotted her.  With a start, he realized it was the same pier in which they had hung out together that Thanksgiving Day so long ago.  She was at the end of the pier, sitting with her back to them.  He noticed that her hair was unbound and moving slightly in the breeze off the water.  He looked at Phoebe and she returned his glance with a nod, and they both stepped onto the pier.

About halfway down, he felt Phoebe’s hand in front of him and he stopped, looking down at her.  Her eyes were narrowed and she was frowning.  “Something’s wrong,” she whispered to him.  “I just saw her wipe at her eyes; and she is not wearing her hair ribbon.  Something is really wrong, Arnold.  Wait here, I need to talk to her.”

He couldn’t understand about the hair ribbon.  He knew she wore it all the time, but was it really significant that she wasn’t?  He just nodded and watched Phoebe slowly approach Helga.

The disadvantage to this was that he couldn’t hear what Phoebe was saying, or if Helga was answering.  Arnold was too far away and too curious.  He loved this girl.  He needed to tell her that.  He knew Phoebe was right – she needed to talk to Helga first, but he felt drawn to them and took a few steps closer. 

By now Phoebe had sat herself down next to Helga and was talking to her and Arnold had moved close enough to hear their voices, but not distinct words.  He saw Phoebe glance over her shoulder at him and slightly shake her head.  He ignored Phoebe and edged closer.

“…laughing together, sitting close, TOUCHING him.  Looking into each other’s eyes,” Helga’s voice finally reached his ears.  She sounded so distraught.  “I saw him waiting at your locker for you.”  Her tone completely changed and sounded sad.  “You know how I feel about him…”

_‘She does love me!’_ was his first thought as his heart skipped a beat.  Or two.  Or ten.  His eyebrows raised as Phoebe looked up at him.

“Helga!” Phoebe protested.  “You cannot think…”

“I thought you liked Gerald,” Helga said in a bitter tone.

“Helga I do,” and Arnold noticed Phoebe’s slight blush.

_‘I have to tell Gerald that!’_ Arnold thought wildly.

“I mean, come on Phoebe.  I know I have NO chance with Arnold, but I never thought you’d do this to me.  You’re my best friend.”

_‘No chance with me?  Does she honestly think that?’_ was his next startled thought.

“Helga!” Phoebe exclaimed, grabbing Helga’s arm and shaking it.  “Do you think Arnold and I like each other?”

_‘Is that what this is about?  She thinks I like Phoebe?  Why would she think that?’_ he thought, then remembered the part he overheard.  _‘She saw me talking to her in the cafeteria.’_   He groaned inwardly.  _‘This is all a misunderstanding!’_

When Helga didn’t say anything, Phoebe cried, “Helga!  You have got it all wrong!”  Phoebe glanced up at him again and he felt his mouth quirk up into a half-smile.  “Arnold doesn’t like me!”

He spoke before he could think.  “Well I do, but only as a friend.”

Helga’s shriek when she heard his voice made him realize he shouldn’t have startled her like that, especially as she was sitting at the edge of a pier above cold October water.  Thankfully, Phoebe was still holding her arm and she helped Helga keep her balance and not fall in.  His heart contracted when her head whipped around and looked into his eyes.  He caught the terrified look in them before she turned back.

“Phoebe, can I talk to Helga alone?” Arnold asked.

Phoebe nodded and said softly to Helga, “Call me later,” before she stood up.  She briefly touched Arnold on the arm and winked at him before moving down the pier.

Arnold watched her go until she was near the beginning of the pier, then he sat down next to Helga.  She looked like a statue, stiff and unyielding; her cheeks, however, were flushed red and her eyes were darting back and forth as if she couldn’t decide what to look at.  He bit back a smile.  Even blushing and with the remnants of her crying, she looked beautiful to him.  He guessed that she’d been crying over him, and that gave him a warm feeling, though he wasn’t happy that she’d been so upset.  He knew she was impulsive, or had been, and quick to jump to conclusions.  What she had said encouraged him, but he wasn’t sure exactly what to say.

“I’m sorry you got the wrong impression.”

She didn’t respond.

“I can explain everything,” he added, and wanted to.  He wanted her to know that she was the only one for him.

She finally spoke, her voice soft and barely audible.  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Yes I do,” he said.  Then a question popped out of his mouth that surprised even him.  “Where’s your pink hair ribbon?” he asked, then wondered at himself why he asked.  Arnold was curious, especially since it seemed a big deal to Phoebe, but he mentally smacked himself in the head.

The question seemed to confuse her.  Her eyes narrowed as she said, “What?”

Trying to make the question sound like it actually made sense, he tried to explain, “I don’t remember ever really seeing you without it.  Three times I do.  That dinner at Chez Paris,” he mentioned, smiling at the memory of her trying to look and act sophisticated.  “The April Fool’s Dance,” and he remembered dancing the Tango with her, then throwing her into the pool, “where you wore a brown one.  And in San Lorenzo.”

Saying that reminded him of the ribbon he carried with him.  He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and said, “I always liked your pink ribbon.  You don’t seem like you without it.” 

She made a vague noise he could barely hear and looked down.  Arnold pulled the ribbon out of his pocket and looked at it, running it through his fingers, and enjoying the still-silky feel of the fabric.  “I could never bear to part with it,” he said softly, more to himself.  He noticed she was looking at it, wide-eyed and he smiled again as he tucked it back into his pocket as he thought about what to say next.  He needed her to see why she was mistaken in everything she had seen.

“I can at least explain why you thought I was at Phoebe’s locker yesterday.  You do realize, it is close to yours.”

He didn’t expect her to respond, so he figured he might as well give her the note he had written.  Arnold knew he would have trouble saying what he wanted to say, and he had written it all out anyway.  “I couldn’t remember which number locker was yours.  Phoebe told me, but I couldn’t remember if it was 689 or 698,” he explained to her as he pulled the note out of his pocket and held it out to her.  “I was going to slip this into yours.”

Helga looked at the note for a few moments, then finally reached a shaking hand out for it, not meeting his eyes.

“Then you ran away before I could give it to you.”

“What is it?” she finally said.

“Read it,” he urged.

He watched as Helga unfolded the note and read it.  Arnold could tell she wasn’t even aware of the change of her expression as she read.  What had been an upset and embarrassed cast to her features turned into hopeful.  Her cheeks turned pink again and her lips parted, lifting a little – just a little – on the sides.  When she finished reading, her hands dropped into her lap, still holding the paper, but she said nothing and stared out at the water.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, which actually stressed him a little.  Arnold was happy to see her unconscious reaction, but he had hoped for her to say something.  “I know it’s not exactly eloquent.  I’m not a great writer like I know you are,” he said, then hesitated.  “But it is heartfelt, and honest.”  Then he knew he had to say it, no matter what the outcome was.  “I did leave one thing out, though.”

Finally, Helga turned her head and looked into his eyes.  He’d always loved the phrase ‘take my breath away’, and he felt that now.  Her eyes were so beautiful, and he felt his breath catch.  It caught, because he saw the uncertainty and fear in them, but deep down he also could see that she had told the truth at FTi, and that nothing had changed for her.

“What?”

The look in her eye gave him the courage to say it.  “I love you.”

The effect of those three simple little words on Helga was amazing to watch.  Her eyes widened into a surprised look that was, quite frankly he thought, adorable.  After a moment, her lips curled up shyly and all he wanted to do was kiss that smile.  Arnold smiled back at her and leaned closer.  It was just like it was all those years ago in San Lorenzo.  His heart was racing and the anticipation was making his head swim.  He kissed her as he had done then, but after a few moments, he felt her arms go around his neck and somehow his were around his waist, and it became much more like her fiery kiss at FTi.

When they pulled back from each other so that she could look into his eyes, his breath caught again.  Her eyes were shining and she wore a huge smile.  She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, then whispered in his ear, “I love you.  Happy Birthday Arnold.”

He hugged her close to him, closing his eyes.  His happiness was complete.


End file.
